Green, Red, Brown
by justjoy
Summary: The hero survived, the villian perished. Everyone knows that Harry Potter fought Voldemort, and triumphed... or did he? Small details make a big difference sometimes. -Mild H/G-


DISCLAIMER: I swear upon this thick stack of _Harry Potter _books, Biology notes, and _A Series of Unfortunate Events _that this is not mine, as I am not blonde, British, or rich. (Hey. That rhymed.)

FURTHER DISCLAIMER: This has been changed, due to a request (which I actually _should _have thought of in the first place, but didn't, so kick me). I hereby announce that this fic is H/G! However, it is my hope that H/Hr shippers will read this too :) . While I myself favour H/Hr _slightly _more (canon shippers, don't kill me please!), I do actually read a H/G every now and then. So please do read this, okay? *puppy eyes*

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I really apologize for seeming dead for a long time. But I never seemed to have time. And when I did, I didn't have ideas... so this and that led to the eventual hiatus in fic-writing. Again, my apologies to all. Anyway, do R&R! Thanks!

2ND AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story has mostly canon background, with a few minor differences. It takes place in place of the battle of Hogwarts; while it also happens in Hogwarts, it's an entirely different story, with a different outcome... I shall say no more!

And on with the story...

* * *

Hermione watched as Harry leaned back in the chair. They were sitting in the library, just four days after the final battle. She was quite happy to see Harry almost back to normal. Initially, she had been worried what would happen to him after the final showdown of the two enemies; now, however, he seemed okay, and, save for the occasional moment of pain she sometimes saw in his eyes, back to normal. Normal being 'pre-final battle' normal, not _normal_ normal – she doubted that Harry would ever have that, the mundane life of an average seventeen-year old.

But she was still worried about him. She was afraid that he might be suppressing his feelings, and wondered every time she saw that glint of suffering in his eyes. His _brown _eyes.

_Well, _that's _definitely the most obvious change, _she mused. They had discussed, extensively, why his eyes had changed from green to brown. It wasn't even the shade of brown that James Potter's had been (they knew that for sure, having confirmed it with Remus), just a murky brown that had been there ever since…

_Ever since the final battle, _she decided. She remembered the shock when Harry had woken up in the hospital. She had nearly screamed when she had seen his eyes. She didn't know why, either. It didn't look too bad on him, but she felt… _off _with those brown eyes looking at her.

She snapped back to the present. Evidently, while her mind had gone wandering, the conversation had turned, surprisingly, to Harry's new eye colour.

"Maybe it's because Lily's protection finally left Harry, now that Voldemort's gone," she added.

Harry looked thoughtful. Ron just snorted. "Or maybe it's just because the little bugger is _dead._" He paused for a breath, then added, vindictively, "Finally!"

Hermione was sure that her eyes were tricking her. She could almost swear that she had seen Harry flinch when Ron had said that. He seemed to be controlling himself, however, but a little glint of malice still showed in his brown eyes for a moment.

Hermione's mind whirled for a moment. _But that would mean that – no , no way… _

She dismissed that thought immediately. Harry couldn't be possessed by Voldemort; he was dead and gone. Forever.

She returned to the conversation, not noticing the stiffness in her friend's voice.

*****

Ginny paced in front of the portrait of the dancing trolls.

Suddenly, a door opened to her left, startling her. She hadn't even realized that she had been asking the Room for anything; well, that she had been walking in front of the Room in the first place.

_Well, since it's here, I might as well use it. _Ginny shrugged, entering the Room.

She was surprised to find that it now looked something like the Headmaster's office. Specifically, how it used to look like when Professor Dumbledore was Headmaster.

He was even sitting behind the desk, crooning a song to Fawkes. As she approached, he looked up. She had to choke back her tears when she saw the familiar twinkle in his eyes.

"You're not real." Ginny said, holding her arms out defensively. "You _can't _be real. Professor Dumbledore died years ago. And Fawkes," she pointed to the phoenix, "has never been seen since."

"How sharp you are, Miss Weasley." The familiar twinkle came back. "I have not, and will not, profess to be the real Albus Dumbledore. But I am sure that I-" Dumbledore corrected himself. "-he would be glad to see you being so alert. So vigilant. As Mad-Eye Moody used to say…"

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" both teacher and student said together, and Ginny burst into a stream of happy tears. She didn't care if he was a fake or not; she had missed the Professor so much after his death. Granted, they rarely spoke, but he had always been a pillar of strength for her, ever since the incident in her first year…

The world seemed hazy for a few moments. When she came to, she found herself in a comfy chair opposite Dumbledore (the table had disappeared), and he was patting her back as she cried her heart out. "I'm so–sorry, Professor Dumbledore. That was quite stupid of me." She wiped away her tears, angry at herself for being so weak.

"That wasn't weak, Miss Weasley." She looked up, curious as to how he knew – but he was Dumbledore, he _did _know everything, after all. "Not in the least bit. That showed that you are still human, and you can still love. I have to admit that Dumbledore was highly worried for your well-being after the incident in your-" he paused to check his memories "-first year?"

Ginny nodded. "How did you – ?"

He answered her question before she finished it. "While I am not actually, Dumbledore, I _do _have some of his memories related to you, taken with his permission." He smiled ruefully for a moment. "That's enough about myself. What about you, Miss Weasley? What brings you here?"

She frowned, trying to find the words to describe her uneasiness. "Well… after the final battle… Harry's eyes changed colour." She looked up; Dumbledore nodded, signalling her to continue.

"I was there when he woke up in the hospital wing. How could I not? I loved him, I still do, I think. I'm not so sure any more." She paused for a brief moment. "All I know that is when he woke up, and I saw his eyes, I was _terrified._"

She met his eyes. "I've never felt so terrified in my life before, Professor. Not since first year. And even then, I was pretty much lifeless. Didn't have enough energy in me to feel anything much at all. But I'm really scared now. He's changed, though not exactly that." Ginny thought for a moment. "I don't know, Professor. All I know that is I can't walk within one mile of Harry without wanting to scream. What am I supposed to do now?" She looked out. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes.

She was surprised to see that Dumbledore was quite enraged; the air around him was crackling slightly from the magic he was letting out.

"I'm sorry, Professor." Ginny said hurriedly. "I shouldn't have-" "It isn't you, Miss Weasley. It's what might have been done to Harry. What _was _probably done, according to your description. Can you place your memories into this Pensieve?"

Ginny looked at the rune-covered basin that sat before her. She hesitated briefly before saying, "Professor, I don't know how to use a Pensieve."

Dumbledore looked surprised for a moment. "I forgot. My apologies, Miss Weasley," he said sheepishly.

*****

Ginny walked back to the Gryffindor common room. She felt lighter, but barely – it had been a relief to unload her worries, but she still had a feeling that something was wrong, something that she ought to know.

"Trust your feelings, Ginny." Luna's voice came from behind her. "Unless your brain has been infested by Wrackspurts, you are definitely correct. They affect your judgement, you know." At Ginny's blank look, she added, "Wrackspurts. They mess with all your emotions. It's horrible. I don't think they've got you yet. Your hair hasn't changed colours recently, has it? That's the first sign of an infestation."

By this point, Ginny couldn't help it; she collapsed in laughter. She shook her head to clear it. _Would Wrackspurts even be able to change my hair colour? That would take a miracle – the Weasley hair isn't even affected by Colour-Change spells, let alone infestations. Maybe I _am _infected with Wrackspurts after all, just that I don't know it__. _Still laughing, she replied, "Sometimes I wonder, Luna. Do you just make these things up to make people laugh?" Luna blinked in slight bewilderment. "Anyway, thanks for the pick-me-up, whether it was made-up or not. You really cheered me up."

That's when she suddenly felt the fear tug at the edge of her consciousness.

Ginny Weasley looked up to see Harry Potter standing barely a stone's throw away, chatting with Ron and Hermione.

She began to scream.

*****

He was floating, unheeding, in a sea of colours.

Three colours, to be specific. Red, green, and brown, where the other two colours met.

He didn't mind being here, actually. Not to say that he _liked _being here, but at least in this place, there wasn't any hurt, sadness, and certainly no Dark Lord to defeat. _What was his name again? Something starting with V? Or T?_

He didn't know. He seemed to be losing memories everyday, but it didn't bother him. That freed him of the burdens on his heart. Maybe he was better off without them, after all.

And he really couldn't care less about the solitude. _Living in a cupboard for most of your life _does _do that to you, I guess._

Harry Potter smiled wryly at the thought.

He hadn't really seen the outside world for quite some time. The last thing he remembered was using a spell on the Dark Lord – the spell that he and Hermione had researched together. He couldn't remember what was it about now, though.

_Hermione… _He wondered briefly about how she was doing. He remembered that she hadn't liked the spell they'd found a lot, and asked him to use it only as the very last resort. But he couldn't remember what it was. _Who cares about that… the important thing is that I'm in a better place now. No problems, no worries, no feelings, nothing at all…_

It struck Harry that there was something distinctly _wrong _ about that last sentence. He didn't know what, though. _Problems? There can't be anything wrong with that. Worries… no, that isn't the problem either (what a horrible pun, _he thought) _…then feelings? That would be the question… if I remember what they felt like in the first place. _

Harry tried to concentrate on _feelings_. It wasn't easy; he hadn't felt anything since waking up in the colours, and maybe long before that. But he thought about the people in his life. Hermione went first. No apparent feeling there, he decided. The same applied to Ron. His parents weren't any better, since he had never known them. Harry seemed to recall a laughing man, who had been a friend of his parents, but his mind refused to catch hold of the memories properly. All he remembered were two disjointed images of a big black dog, and a black-haired man hugging another sandy-haired one, as if they were long-lost brothers.

But other than that… nothing at all.

Harry Potter was just contemplating this fact when he saw – or _thought_ he saw – a red haired witch looking at him.

And screaming.

*****

Ginny was still screaming at the top of her lungs. "Get _away _from me! No!" She made a desperate attempt to get away, tripping over a flagstone in the process. Even after she fell, she continued screaming, and was close to sobbing when Hermione came running over to where she was.

The whole Entrance Hall seemed to be silent and immobile as everyone absorbed the shock of Ginny Weasley screaming at the mere sight Harry Potter.

Only Luna moved. Looking murderous, she glared at Harry, and cast a medium-powered Banishing Curse that sent him flying into the sea of students, though not at a dangerous speed.

Behind her, Hermione was struggling to get Ginny up on her feet, as she was still hysterical. She wasn't seeing now, just flailing her arms wildly. Hermione looked to Luna for help.

She nodded. Concentrating briefly – she didn't want to overpower this spell – she flicked her wand and muttered _"Sominus"_.

The trashing redhead finally fell silent, deep in an enchanted sleep.

With another flick of her wand, Luna levitated Ginny to the Hospital Wing.

*****

In the Room of Requirement, one Dumbledore – the one that Ginny had met - was pacing around in sheer fury. The other, who stood in the middle of the room, was clearly a member of the spirit world.

"How dare he do that? Bind his spirit to the living, to such a young boy? I will _not _allow him to do this! He can not, and _will _not, thwart Death - thwart _me - _so many times!"

"Oh yes, but he can, and he dares to, Death. I have never seen him as a person with much regard for another's life," replied the spirit Dumbledore calmly.

"You!" Death suddenly whirled around. "How can you stand there and say that so calmly! I am _Death_, and I still have feelings for that boy! How can you – do you even care about him any more?" The pacing Dumbledore was shouting by now.

"That is quite enough!" Dumbledore raised his voice to a near-shout also. "To answer your questions, I am not heartless, and I care about Harry very much! But getting angry like you are doing now will _not _help matters!"

Suddenly, as if the words were physically hurtful, the other Dumbledore – Death in another form – crumpled in a chair, sobbing, shifting back to her base form unconsciously. The real Dumbledore walked over, and tried to pat Death on the back.

They both laughed when they realized that he had forgotten that he wasn't solid. His hand passed right through her back.

Wiping away tears, Death looked up.

Dumbledore looked into those green, green eyes, the same colour as the curse that had killed her in the first place.

Lily Evans looked up. "I'm sorry, Albus. It's just that it's – it's _Harry_, you know. How dare Voldemort do that to _my son_!"

Dumbledore smiled wryly. "Your temper hasn't improved ever since I last saw you, Lily. But I am glad that you still worry about Harry. Being on the immortal plane for too long can affect one's feelings for those in the mortal world."

"Not for me." Lily sighed. "I should have _known_, Dumbledore. I thought that Voldemort was dead for _good_! I'm Death! How could I not have known that he wasn't?"

"It isn't your fault, Lily. You're new to the job, and you don't know the whole story yet. You didn't even know about his Horcruxes, how could you have guessed that he wasn't entirely dead?"

"Wait… Horcruxes? Where have I heard that word before?" She saw the twinkle in the Professor's eye. "Tell!"

The professor sat together with Death for a long time, explaining how the Dark Lord had managed to stay alive.

Then, they began to plot how to get Harry back.

*****

Harry still felt puzzled.

He had seen the red-haired witch scream about two minutes ago – or was it ten, or even sixty? – and had subsequently felt himself being thrown backwards. He prepared himself for the landing, but barely winced as he landed on his side. The pain was nothing but a dull feeling that nagged slightly at his senses.

It was completely insignificant when compared to his confusion about what he had seen.

Firstly, this was the first time he had seen anyone else with such clarity. The few times he had seen the world outside the colours provided nothing but blurry images that were quickly wiped away. He thought that he might have seen a brown-haired witch – _was it Hermione?_ – looking at him worriedly, but he wasn't sure.

This time had been different, however. It hadn't been just a glimpse. It was a full and clear picture of a red-headed girl. He could even remember how many freckles she had on her face. But he couldn't even begin to remember her name.

Harry searched what was left of his memories for a long time. He still didn't find the answer to that question. He remembered Ron, and meeting him on the train in their first year. Harry thought that Ron had had a large number of siblings, but he wasn't sure.

_Maybe she's Ron's sister. But that still doesn't give me her name._

Harry felt frustrated. He thought that the answer was important, and it lay outside. Outside all the swirling colours.

For the first time so far, Harry Potter wished that he could get out of the colours.

*****

Ginny slowly opened her eyes. Her memories were slightly blur, and she tried to remember what had happened.

Her panic at not remembering must have shown on her face, because someone – Luna – squeezed her hand. "The memories were affected by the Dreamless Sleep that Madam Pomfrey gave you. They will be restored in, oh, let's say… 5 seconds?"

Ginny squeezed her eyes shut as the torrent of memories hit her. Feeling worried – talking to someone that looked like Dumbledore – chatting to Luna about Wrackspurts – and, finally, seeing Harry.

It was all Ginny could do to not scream, even at seeing him in just her memories.

"Don't worry," Luna said. "Vo- Harry's not here now."

That alone was enough to surprise Ginny. She opened her eyes. "You think so too?" she asked timidly.

Luna nodded. "He's been weird lately. There could only be two reasons for that: either he was possessed by Voldemort, or there's been a Wrackspurt infestation. But his hair is still black, and changes in eye colour don't count." Luna finished her little speech in a satisfied manner.

Ginny thought for a while. "Luna, once I'm discharged, there's someone I need you to meet. For now, let's just work on getting me out from under Pomfrey's tender mercies."

*****

Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, _very _wrong.

She had only seen Ginny scream like that once: when she had seen Nagini in the moments before Neville had killed the snake, and the piece of Voldemort's soul along with it as well. But why would seeing Harry now bring about the same reaction?

She didn't know for sure. But she was getting this increasingly bad feeling that something was wrong with Harry.

And that something was definitely to do with Voldemort.

She could think of only one possibility.

Harry was _possessed_.

For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger felt helpless against the odds.

*****

Ginny and Luna walked out from the Room of Requirement, both looking much happier than when they had just entered.

Ginny looked triumphant, with some hint of anger; Luna just looked like she'd found a colony of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in there.

They headed down to the Great Hall to put the next piece of the plan into action.

*****

Lily whirled around the moment the door of the Room closed. "Do you honestly _think _they can do this?" There wasn't much anger in the tone, just worry.

"Lily, if they can't…" Dumbledore looked pensive for a moment. "Then no one else can." He patted her shoulder sympathetically.

"Now, we have to prepare for Ginny's guests, and Luna, hopefully with Harry in tow."

The two set to work.

*****

Ginny sat down on the seat that Harry had just vacated. She had waited on the far end of the Great Hall until he left with Luna; she didn't need another scene, especially now that she had confirmed his identity.

"Ginny?" Ron sounded curious, even surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Keep quiet, Ron. Ginny has something important to tell us, I think. Most likely related to why she screamed at Harry just now," Hermione said.

Ginny took a deep breath. "Harry's-not-Harry-anymore-now!" she blurted out.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Come again, Ginny?"

"I said Harry… isn't _Harry _any more!"

The two friends looked at her, one more perplexed than the other, as she began to explain.

*****

Luna faced Harry as they sat on a comfortable rock by the lake. She didn't know what to say for a moment.

Finally, she broke the silence. "You know, I always wondered if the school ever charmed these things to be comfy. Or maybe there are Night Demiguises lying here. Did you know that their fur makes a great cushion?"

She caught the slightly irritated tone that Harry used when replying her. "Maybe, Luna. Who knows? Look, let's get to the point. Why did you ask me out here?"

Luna paused to arrange her thoughts. Her life – _all _of their lives, in fact – depended on her acting skills in these few minutes.

She said, carefully, "It's Ginny. I don't know why she screamed at you just now. Madam Pomfrey had to give her a Calming Draught to stop her from screaming after we got to the hospital wing. I've been elected by her – she asked me to tell you that she would like to meet you again, under less public circumstances. She promises to try to not scream this time." She smiled half-heartedly. "I'm worried, Harry. Maybe the war was too much on her. Especially after first year –"

Luna knew that she had not imagined the streak of triumph in those brown eyes.

She didn't know that it was possible to hate someone as much as she did Voldemort now.

"Say no more," Harry replied. "Is she free to meet up now?"

Luna nodded, and rose.

*****

Ginny knocked softly on the door of the Room, then entered, followed closely by Hermione and Ron.

The two others gasped at the level of preparation evident in the Room's defences. There were shields everywhere; they could feel the power behind them buzzing in the air, more concentrated than any _Protego_ they had ever cast.

In a short time, Ginny had already crossed the Room, heading for a darker corner. The two friends hurried to catch up.

They couldn't believe the sight that met their eyes.

In one corner stood Lily Evans, displaying the precise reasons why her temper was famed – and feared. And sitting in front of a Pensieve was none other than a ghostly Albus Dumbledore.

Ginny was unfazed, having seen them before. "Good evening, Professor, Mrs Potter. I've brought Ron and Hermione here; I think Luna should be coming with Harry soon."

Eyes twinkling, Dumbledore said, "Very well, Miss Weasley. And I hope that Mister Weasley and Miss Granger will kindly close their mouths before flies get in."

Hermione snapped to her senses. "I'm sorry, Professor, Mrs Potter. It's just that – seeing the two of you – well, not alive, but – you must be some manifest of the castle's magic?"

Lily Evans laughed. "We understand. And you could see it to be so, though not exactly. Maybe the magic of the universe. It demands balance, you know. A certain amount of magic is directed to maintaining balance, and restoring it where it has been disturbed. In fact-"

"Anyway," interrupted the Headmaster, "we should move on to more serious matters. Like our plan to give Harry's body back to Harry, and not Tom."

There was complete silence in the Room for the next ten minutes.

*****

Hermione felt angry with herself. How could she have dismissed the obvious signs as mistakes in her observations?

She _should _have figured it out long ago, that Harry's body didn't entirely belong to Harry now.

It saddened her to know that he had finally used the curse that she had made him swear not to, unless under extreme situations.

_I guess Voldemort forced him into one, then._

Nobody knew anything about the final battle except for Harry. It had taken place in the Great Hall, but it had been entirely closed off from the rest of Hogwarts. Hermione had thought that it was done with the same energy used for moving the staircases; just another peculiarity of Hogwarts. But she wasn't so sure anymore.

_Had Voldemort created it, on purpose? So that nobody could see what actually happened? But how did he – _

Her musings were abruptly cut short by the arrival of the darkest and most evil wizard in two centuries in the body of her best friend.

*****

Luna was thinking about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks as she walked to the Room with Harry.

The trick, it was said, to capturing a Snorkack was to lull it into a false sense of security, of power. And just when it is enjoying that, one must immediately act, whether to bind it in ropes, or cast a anti-escape ward around the area.

_Well, I might be dealing with a Dark Lord now, but it's still pretty much the same._

She entered the room ahead of Harry, and ran to Ginny, who was sitting in a chair across from the door.

"Keep calm, Ginny. You promised not to scream, remember?" Luna said, squeezing her shoulders reassuringly to comfort her. Her eyes communicated her worry for her friend.

"I'll be okay. Trust me." Luna raised her eyebrows at the double meaning of her words, but made no comment. She retreated, unnoticed, into the shadows.

Harry began to approach Ginny cautiously, with Ron and Hermione flanking him. The two of them watched Ginny closely, prepared to pull Harry back at the slightest hint of something wrong.

Ginny watched his progress across the room warily. She knew that she only had one chance at this, and she would be _damned _if she let Tom win this time. Harry risked his life to save her the first time round; she would do the same for him this time round.

Finally, Harry walked past the first line, and entered the first shield. There was a barely audible sound of the shield sealing itself, disallowing exit, but also entry.

Ginny was on her own now. She clenched her fists tightly as Harry walked towards the second line.

*****

Harry fought with the colours. They seemed unyielding. Trying to get past them seemed about as successful as swimming through oil.

He wanted to give up, didn't want to fight anymore. After all, what was he fighting for? A mere vision of a girl whom he wasn't very sure existed. So what if he got out? She might not even have been a real person…

Harry was about to retreat back to the comfort of the colours when he suddenly saw the girl again.

This time, she wasn't screaming. She was holding her hand out to him, imploring with her eyes. _What was the term for that? _he wondered. _Love?_

He fought for a way out harder than ever before.

And that's when he suddenly felt the red colour weaken, dissipating into thin air.

*****

Ginny stretched out her hand to Harry as he neared the second shield. It had been designed by Dumbledore to keep out all but those with only Evans and Potter blood. But they all acknowledged the dubiousness of this protection. Technically, Voldemort had some of the Evans-Potter blood from the resurrection ritual. Dumbledore had been certain that it would work, hinting that he had added another layer to it that Voldemort couldn't possibly pass. He refused to tell them what it was, saying that it was Harry's right to do that, since it _was _a prophecy about him.

Ginny could only hope he was right as Harry began to touch the second shield.

*****

Harry wanted to grab the red-headed girl's hand and never let it go.

But to do that, he had to get _out _of the colours first. He quickly figured out that the red one wasn't good; the green one, on the other hand, seemed benign, and was probably helping him keep the red at bay.

He thought about what had sent the red away at that time. What had he been thinking about? The red-haired girl. How the emotion in her eyes seemed to be _love_, foreign concept that it was.

The red dissipated yet further.

*****

Ginny was physically pulling Harry through the second set of wards now; it wasn't easy, given the fact that he was screaming in pain as she did it.

_It's not Harry screaming, _she thought. _It's Voldemort. Tom Riddle. The one who possessed you. Almost made you kill Hermione just for being Muggleborn._

She forced herself to remember that as she continued pulling him through the shield. It was getting progressively more difficult; as more of Harry was pulled through the shield, the harder she had to pull to continue moving him.

But finally, she completed her task.

Tom Riddle and Harry Potter fell to either sides of the shield, unconscious. Ginny nearly collapsed from the exertion, but held on to Harry, sobbing in relief.

*****

Harry thought some more about love, since that had managed to drive the red away.

He thought about his parents, and how much he would have loved to know them. He focused on the green – which he now realized was the same shade as his mother's eyes – and showed it all these feelings. It only made sense that one should be strengthened by what one's enemy fears. And, true enough, the red dissipated even faster, vanishing before Harry's astonished eyes.

Soon, there was only a small cloud left, surrounded by green. Harry's mind became clearer as the red cleared. _It was blocking my memories, _Harry realized. If what had happened so far hadn't made him want to kill whoever had done this, this did. He turned to face the cloud of red.

Instinctively, he made a grabbing motion at the green, and an arrow materialized in his hand. "This is for trying to make me forget everyone!" he cried as he stabbed in deep into the red, grabbing another. "This one is for Sirius! I will _never_ forget him, thank you very much!" He was panting from the exertion.

The red had dissipated so much that only a few wisps were left. It didn't take long to decide. Harry swiftly grabbed the last bit of green and destroyed the red with it. "This is for me and Ginny! How _dare _you make me forget her!" He screamed inarticulately at the last, steadily disappearing tendrils of red.

Harry suddenly felt in complete control of his body, and felt the sharp pain as he collapsed to the floor. It was welcome, however. He noted that Voldemort was also in the same situation as him: near unconsciousness, sprawled out on the floor _Of course, _he noted dully, _the red _had _to be Voldemort._

Harry turned around just in time to see the girl he'd been pining for sweep him into a hug.

Then he knew no more.

*****

Ginny sat anxiously beside Harry in the hospital wing.

"He _will _be alright, Miss Weasley. Let him have some rest," said Madam Pomfrey for the umpteenth time.

"No…Ginny…don't go…" said a hoarse voice from the bed.

"Harry, you're awake!"

"Yes, I am, and Tom-free to boot," he smiled, as he struggled to open his eyes. "Poppy, would you close the curtains, I'm having a record-breaking headache... ah, that's much better... thanks..."

Ginny bit her lip as Harry turned towards her.

And looked at her with eyes that were nothing but green. No hint of red at all.

Ginny almost cried with relief, hugging Harry tightly.

She would never take trivial things such as eye colour to be so insignificant ever again.

* * *

3RD AUTHOR'S NOTE: I still don't love the ending. Ah, well...

4TH AUTHOR'S NOTE: And some of the idea for this story can be attributed to "The Abyss" by Kinsfire on . As they say, "imitation is the best flattery." :)

5TH AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is probably going to be a oneshot, or at maximum, twoshot. The second chapter, if it ever gets written, will explain some things not covered here, like the curse Harry used and things like that. Depends on my schedule, though.

6TH (AND LAST) AUTHOR'S NOTE: And review! (UPDATE ON DAY AFTER POSTING: 73 hits, but only three reviews? Must I beg?)


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